


shake the disease

by couriersexy



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24925102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couriersexy/pseuds/couriersexy
Summary: Out of everything Zero thought he would absolutely, unequivocally hate, sand was... ironically, the last of them. All things considered, he figures he’d made worse oversights than forgoing a consideration for his opinions on the sound Six’s boots make as they crunch into the sand one step at a time. And they still have a day before they make it to the Strip.Honestly, at this point he’s starting to wonder why he even decided going to the Strip for a “getaway” with a glorified mailman seemed like a good idea in the first place.
Relationships: Male Courier/Dr. O| Dr. 0
Kudos: 16





	shake the disease

**Author's Note:**

> everyone shut up no thoughts only synth zero .

Out of everything Zero thought he would absolutely, unequivocally hate, sand was... ironically, the last of them. All things considered, he figures he’d made worse oversights than forgoing a consideration for his opinions on the sound Six’s boots make as they crunch into the sand one step at a time. And they still have a day before they make it to the Strip. 

Honestly, at this point he’s starting to wonder why he even decided going to the Strip for a “getaway” with a glorified mailman seemed like a good idea in the first place. 

Right as he starts heading down another line of thoughts that loosely resemble his past few hours’ mantra of “Wow! This sand is even worse than coagulated oil in your hands!” Six spins on his feet.

“Zero? You almost done wallowin’ back here?” He says full of the usual lack of seriousness.

“How much longer.” The doctor fires back in a flat tone. 

Six laughs at that. Like, actually laughs. Did he get his brain back or was there something else wrong?  
“We’ll get there when we get there, Doc.” 

And then he just continues walking. As if traipsing around a nuclear wasteland with a spring in your step is normal. Or a mentally sound choice. Or—

“Stoppin’ soon though, I reckon. D’you think you can make it another hour or so?” Zero swears there’s a hint of genuineness in the last part... figuring out exactly what made Six tic was proving to be an experiment of its own. Honestly, working his away around the courier was starting to become rather enjoyable. He’s probably zoned out again.

“Oh— Uhhh, yes. Yes I believe so. Are you... suggesting we- camp? Is that still the term?” 

“Y’know, you’d think havin’ a body would make you less susceptible to complaints,” the man says with a smirk,”... but yeah, we’re gonna have to camp. Don’t worry though, I’m sorta an expert with this.” 

The tone in his voice leaves Zero with a feeling that “expert” is a term used very, very loosely. As in the “Klein shouting that this robot has ‘seven screws completely missing’” kind of loose. 

Nonetheless they keep walking in almost silence. Save for that damned thing on Six’s arm softly playing whatever music they play on a post-apocalyptic radio station. Tchaikovsky? Mozart? Vera Keyes? Who knows! A dusty old doctor that’s been not-aging in a scientific facility in a crater certainly wouldn’t! 

The hour passes rather quickly. Whether that’s because Zero is starting to fall into a rhythm of steps or if the dread of whatever Six deems as ‘camping’ is coming soon is unknowable. Regardless though, the pair soon finds themself in front of what looks like a cave that looks like it goes back 6 feet before abruptly ending. Like something out of a sci-fi comic. 

“See?” Six says, startling the doctor out of that thought,”told ya I’m somethin’ of a camping expert.” The ‘camping expert’ is spoken with a blatant tone that screams “Zero you incompetent robot bastard. Please stop complaining about sand you asked to come with me.” 

But... the courier’s expression belies something else. Something unfamiliar. Like when you’re vivisecting a machine late at night and your vision is blurring but you’ve just uncovered the inner most part of robotic organs and can’t stop now and—

“Well. Anyway,” Six starts,”Better start a fire soon. I’ll take watch first. I don’t think I’ll have to wake you for second watch though, mostly just precautionary stuff.” 

“Alright. I ... don’t suppose you pack real food in that mail sack you call storage?” Zero responds. He’s given a flat look in return before Six pulls out some Insta-Mash. 

“Better than nothin’, right doc?” He smirks. Having the courier’s full attention on him is... making his skin do a funny crawling thing. In a good way. 

“Hm. Yes... I suppose it is.” Is the only thing Zero can muster in return. 

This gets him a laugh from the other man followed by a hand on his shoulder leading him into the cave. 

Zero almost leans into it. Almost. He has more self preservation than that, but the thought is... oddly tempting. This only leads to an entire litany of thoughts about Six’s odd habit of just... touching him. In friendly ways, of course. But still. It’s odd to think that someone whose done the things the courier has to be so... physically giving? Kind? Zero’s not entirely sure what the word would be. 

By the time he manages to draw his presence back to the cave, the courier has started the fire and is waiting for the doctor to take a seat so he can make ‘dinner’. If you could call partially frozen-definitely irradiated-Insta-Mash dinner. Or even food. 

Much like the walk to the cave, dinner goes by in a blur of Johnny Guitars and Jingle Jangle Jingles and Six’s occasional snarky inputs about something Zero says. The rhythm of the meal is... comforting. In a way a cold science building full of lobotomites and other pleasantries aren’t. Home is cold but Six is warm. Two startling opposites in an otherwise static desert. 

Zero hates psychology. Thinking too much about the implications of that is a rabbit hole too brain-y for him to go down. There’s a reason he sticks to robots. 

By now Six has noticed Zero staring into the fire like it’s personally wronged him, which prompts the courier to speak up again with a,”Thinkin’ hard, Doc?” Which doesn’t necessarily help Zero’s situation. But he’s not really against hearing Six’s gravelly, slightly hushed tone inquire something with that nickname. 

“Oh— Ah, just... thinking...” Zero narrows his eyes when he says this. And stares more intently into the fire. 

“Mmhmm...” Six trails off for a second or two,”Gettin’ tired, Zero?” 

Being back in a ‘human’ body meant readjusting to a lot of things. Like sand. But also really feeling tired, more than you do when you’re a floating brain. Zero, Dala, and Klein had actually made a nasty habit of completely exhausting themselves recently because of this. 

So Zero nods. And sets the food down. And then yawns. And when he opens his eyes again Six is owlishly staring. The doctor makes a mental note to add this to the “list of times the courier has been caught doing something odd”. 

Six stands up to get Zero’s leftovers, and on his way back he pats the doctors shoulder again before huffing a short laugh. Not a mocking one, though. More of a... affectionate one? If Zero was picking up on things correctly. 

“Hm. Hey, doc? You wanna sleep next to where I’m takin’ watch tonight? I reckon it’ll get more than a little chilly if you’re on your lonesome halfway across the place.” 

And.... oh. Oh there it was. The... warm feeling. 

“Well... yes. I guess I see the... scientific reasons behind that.” Zero can feel the ‘blood’ rushing to his cheeks like some teenaged schoolboy talking to their crush. 

Is that what this was?

Six settles back where he was and Zero makes his way around the fire and next to the courier. Six slings an arm around the doctor, drawing funny feeling shapes into his back. Zero hears the familiar ‘pop!’ sound of a bottle cap being flicked off a bottle. The fire is still crackling, and there’s a distant sound of mutated wildlife moving around in the night. Far away enough that they aren’t in danger, but still in earshot. 

Zero’s starting to drift off when Six starts moving his elbow. Bones are so useless. 

“Zero? You wanna move a bit?” He whispers, as if he suspected Zero had already fallen asleep somehow. 

The doctor grumbles and shifts so that his head is in Six’s lap and his legs and curled up in a way that makes his whole body face the courier. For all Six’s sharp humor, he’s very soft to lay on, Zero distantly thinks.

Six laughs another amused yet fond laugh. Zero feels coarse hands start running through his hair soon after he settles in. 

Soon enough he’s drifting off again, falling into unconsciousness with the background noise of the Mojave’s nocturnal wildlife, Six swishing whatever drink he had around intermittently, and an odd mix of the fire dwindling from natural causes and the wind.

**Author's Note:**

> i rlly love comments umm 👁👁


End file.
